The Drought—2005

The sales are down again this week, for no one wants to buy;
Who wants to take more cattle just to watch them slowly die?
The paddocks now are dust bowls, with scarce a blade of grass,
But folk are ever hopeful that the drought will surely pass.

The worst in living mem'ry, it's been with us now for years,
And maybe spirits lift somewhat when any cloud appears;
Then tantalising rain may fall, a welcome downward sweep,
But green that might be ten miles wide, is only one inch deep.

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Yes, country life will have tough times, but we have no regrets.

© Tom Chapman 2005





Notes on the Poems